Different Kinds of Wares
by El Dorado
Summary: Clive tells a story about his past as a travelling salesman and other topics come up...


**Different Kinds of Wares**

**By: ****El Dorado**

**Author's Notes: Humor again…**

**Warnings: Suggestive Dialogue and Profanity**

**Disclaimer: There was a time when I'd try to be witty with these… but now… I take the straight forward approach… I don't own Wild Arms.**

Sitting before the fire, Clive Winslett squinted through the orange light staining his glasses, attempting to get a good look at the object lying in his gloved hands. He ran his thumbs over it, marveling at irregularities in the shape. It was a deep purple color and shiny. It was actually kind of nice…

"It's very beautiful," announced Clive suddenly.

Jet snapped his head towards the older man. His stance was bestial, and Clive feared that Jet would leap over the flames and kill him. He cowered beneath the object peering up at Jet with a pitiful expression.

This served to placate Jet, and with a final snarl, he settled back into a sitting position. "That rock cost us 7000 gella. So don't go and try to justify it with some half-assed excuse," murmured Jet angrily.

Clive gave a small sigh. "I'm sure it must have some value… Roykman is not a swindler…"

Virginia, who had been sitting nearby, sprung to life upon hearing Clive's statement. "I didn't think so either Clive. But he is. He ripped you off. There's no justice in this world…" she cried out passionately.

Clive stared at the excited young woman with dismay. "Virginia please… he didn't 'rip me off'…"

"Listen to the lady, he got you good," interrupted Gallows rudely.

Clive frowned. "Ah, I give up," he exclaimed sorrowfully. "He did 'rip me off'.., but the truth is I knew along, and I let him."

There was a long silence before Jet began growling. "Okay, Clive, I like you a lot. You're a nice guy. I put up with your clever talk. And your glasses. And your naïve-ness. And your tight leather… not even vaguely ap-pro-pri-ate pants. But this… I'ma kill you for this."

Clive shook his head slowly. "Jet, I'm terribly sorry… I know how much you like money… but you must understand where I'm coming from…"

"Lemme guess… when you were young you did some crack cocaine and now your la-tent hi-ness is acting up."

"My latent hi-ness is not acting up," exclaimed Clive, slightly distressed. He took a deep breath and began to stroke the stone once more. "Truth is: I have a special affiliation with traveling merchants."

"Why's that?" questioned Gallows somewhat interested. He had heard some of Clive's stories before and they were very interesting… the sex… the booze… the drugs… good stuff.

"Ah, well, when I was young…"

Virginia scrunched her face in distaste. "I don't think I want hear this…"

Clive gave a small smile. "No, don't worry… this story is different… nothing wild."

"Oh, okay then… what it's about?"

"It's about one of my jobs… a job I took up for a couple of weeks. I met Catherine while working and it set my life on the right course…" Clive smiled as if savoring the memories. "For a couple of weeks, I was Clive Winslett, the best traveling salesman in all of Filgaia."

"Salesman?" questioned Jet staring at Clive with something akin to horror.

"Yes, a salesman… who sells things… you know like watches…"

"Ah, that kind of salesman…" Jet leaned back comfortably. "Yeah, go ahead and tell us."

"Ah… well, let's see. I had been jobless for a time and decided I would try something new. You see, I had a friend, who knew this guy, who had heard of a man, who had been romantically involved with a woman, who had a brother who was in the traveling salesman's business. Now, traveling salesmen usually cater to housewives, in that the women open the door and the husbands are usually at work. I hoped to do well in this because… well, umm, I was quite the looker in my youth and had a certain politeness that could be mistaken for charisma."

Jet let out a loud snicker. "Talk about tooting your own horn," he yelled, interrupting Clive quite effectively.

Clive looked somewhat embarrassed. "Yes, I guess you're right. I'm sorry." He cleared his throat once or twice then continued. "Well, maybe I wasn't good-looking nor charismatic, but when I met this man he said, and I'm quoting him by the way, 'Take off your glasses, that'll spoil the effect. Yes, that's right, smile just like that… That voice… that face… you'll make me millions.' By this time I hadn't even mentioned becoming a traveling salesman, but I did what I was told, and removed my glasses, and smiled what many call my embarrassed smile, and turned clock wise, and turned counter clock wise, and let him leer over me like some doom impending."

Gallows looked at Clive strangely. "Like some doom impending… wow. I may not be the brightest man, but isn't that a little much?"

Clive took a deep breath. "Yes, I guess it is… but you see… He was a very intense man, who flitted around and made brash, sudden movements that startled me on many occasions. It may have been his eagerness to sell his many wares but there was something unnerving about him." Clive frowned and shuddered. "Either way, I was hired on the spot and given this jacket." He paused, tugging his auburn colored jacket open and smiling. "I would start small, with watches, jewelry, and other assorted knickknacks."

Virginia nodded. "So how did you do? Did you sell a lot of things?" she questioned, leaning in quite close.

"Ah, well I did actually," admitted Clive rubbing the back of his head. "I would talk very politely and say things like, 'I _personally _recommend this one…' and 'You look positively radiant in that…' Every once in a while I would come across a husband and my pitch would instantly change. 'Get her this and your wife will thank you in more ways than one' or 'I gave this to my girlfriend… and I was quite pleased with the result."

Virginia began to shift somewhat uncomfortably. They were getting close to breaching… that subject again. Men… "Well, what about Catherine, when did you meet her?" inquired Virginia eagerly. Yes, that's right, bring up his wife and things would get clean again.

Clive straightened up abruptly. "Yes. Catherine. I met her on the job… I came to sell my watches and jewelry at her door. It wasn't the best of first impressions. You see… I had been in the business for a while and I had developed some habits of dressing that were less than becoming."

Clive placed his fingers on his forehead and began to massage his temple. "I suppose I would have been fine, if _Catherine_ had opened the door. But she did not. Instead, Berlitz, her father had. So there I was, standing before a respectable man, clad in nothing more than my trusty trench coat, a pair leather pants so tight they clung to me like a second skin, and a half-open shirt that revealed a great portion of my bare chest. The heat didn't help either. I was all 'flustered' to say the least… sticky with sweat, squirming and wriggling around, and gasping like a fish out of water. Over all, I looked like some kind of cheap male harlot…"

Gallows raised his hand politely. Clive gestured towards him with a nod. "What's a harlot?" questioned Gallows curiously.

Clive turned a bright shade of pink. "Ah, well… the term 'harlot' is a kind of old-fashioned way to say 'prostitute' or 'whore'," he replied with much difficulty.

"Oh," said Gallows. He then began to giggle madly. "So it looked as if you were selling different kinds of wares, huh?"

Clive nodded sadly. "Yes, I suppose it did."

Virginia began to chuckle nervously. "Haha… I guess that was pretty embarrassing…"

"Yes it was," assured Clive nodding furiously. "I knew at the time that I hadn't given the best impression because as soon as the door swung open Berlitz had this expression of pure disapproval."

"So what did you do?" piped Gallows.

"Well, I did something stupid." Clive pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. "I had also developed the habit of thinking out loud… So I said…" Clive's voice trailed off as he stared at his teammates.

"What did you say?" demanded Jet.

"I said, and I quote: 'Shit, Fuck. Where are my glasses when I have to look decent?' and then fumbled to find the aforementioned ticket to decency."

"Shit, Fuck. Where are my glasses when I have to look decent?" repeated Jet somewhat shocked.

Clive nodded as he assured the younger man of his words. "Shit, Fuck. Where are my glasses when I have to look decent. "

There was a moment of silence… Suddenly Jet, Gallows and Virginia all burst into laughter. Clive watched as his comrades laughed at him and was a bit upset… it was funny of course but he seriously thought they were _over_ enjoying this. Jet had almost rolled into the bonfire as he laughed, Virginia had turned an interesting hue of red, and Gallows Caradine had been taken completely out of commission and lie prone on the floor panting. However, Clive Winslett was a patient man and he waited…

Finally, after a good long while, too long to be honest, his comrades came around and sat up. He allowed them to get rid of their spare giggles before continuing.

"So after saying that… I looked for my glasses and put them on, hoping they would give the illusion of class…"

"Does that mean you had no class…?" questioned Jet smirking slyly.

Clive looked somewhat affronted. "Well, I had some class… but to stand there looking like _that_, I _seemed_ classless, and so I had to counteract this with my glasses."

"Yeah, whatever," mumbled Jet still smirking.

Clive furrowed his eyebrows and chewed lightly on his bottom lip. "I guess… I wasn't the most high class person, if I paraded around looking like that. Maybe it was an issue of self-esteem but I never saw a problem with it. I would get complimented a lot and it was kind of flattering… so I thought it was okay."

Jet rolled his eyes. "Clive, I was kidding. I know you have class… I was just trying to piss you off… but if you're going to get all whiny then you might as well continue the story."

"Ah… well okay… In that case, where was I?" Clive put a hand to his chin in thought. "Ah yes. So I had put on my glasses and began to speak. Now at this point, Berlitz's expression had softened. I figure it's because I now appeared to be an _educated _cheap male harlot."

"Clive… just relax… I'm sure he didn't think that…" assured Virginia.

"Oh no, Berlitz did think that… those were his words. He said 'Clive, I remember the day I first saw you… you looked exactly like an _educated cheap male harlot_…"

Virginia looked slightly disturbed. "Oh well… umm… things couldn't have gone that badly. What happened next?"

Clive eyes got this sort of faraway look. "Well that day, Chapanga, the guardian of luck, had me in his favor. It was Catherine's birthday party, and my jewelry would make a perfect gift. So I was invited in, if only so Catherine could choose her present. She did, and afterward invited me to stay for the party. Berlitz looked like he wanted to kill me so I stayed away from him and close to his daughter… if only for protection. We talked and became friends."

Gallows frowned. "Yeah, but friendship and marriage are like miles away. I mean me and Virginia are friends but we're not planning to marry… So what did you do exactly, to win Catherine over?" He flashed a lecherous grin, "Come on… spill the dirt."

"Oh my," gasped Clive as if shocked by Gallows's implications. "I… assure you… it wasn't anything like that… we simply we got to know each other as people and I began frequenting her home not for salesmanship purposes but as a friend. I also dressed more appropriately and slowly won Berlitz over as well." He smiled proudly. "And that's the end I suppose."

Virginia smiled happily. "You see guys, that was a real story. It was nice, somewhat clean and very romantic," she said wistfully.

Jet nodded. "It was nice, somewhat clean and very romantic," he repeated mocking her tone. Then in his own voice continued, "But it was lacking one important thing… when did it ever explain to any of us why he bought that dumb rock?"

Clive let out a groan. "It didn't exactly explain… I rather hoped that it would distract and that you would forget all about my monetary indiscretion. But it seems Chapanga has abandoned me," Clive allowed his voice to trail off tragically. "However," he continued, "I am willing to repay the sum from my own private savings."

Jet shook his head slowly, grinning at the confused sniper. "No, I won't take it; you worked too hard for it. I won't accept any prostitution money."

Once again his companions burst into giggles. Clive shook his head, and idly reached for his glasses. He inspected closely before wiping them twice against his sleeve. Then, tucking them into the deep recesses of his trench coat, he stood up and began to walk away from the campsite.

"Hey," began Virginia between laughs, "Where are you going? We were just kidding…"

Clive turned to face the young woman. "I'm off to use my salesmanship skills to sell this to someone…" he stated smiling a little.

Virginia looked surprised. "You're selling the pretty rock?" she questioned.

"Yes… that or my pretty ass, whichever one sells first," and with that alone Clive Winslett walked off, chuckling as he left his comrades in a new fit of laughter.


End file.
